"entreaty" poems
dings and whistles from the slot alert him escape -
sit before my image enter its wild wolf canyon escape
winding road in lofty forest landscape
beckon her - leave him for my green escape
triple x signs promise writhing bodies
heavy breathing and dark dank escape
the flute lay still of the silent table sparkling
sweet melodic memories of fingered escape
the frothy surging surf traces the seam of the sea -
bathe in my ***** wrap your self in my fluid escape
locked door soft light from below no sounds
inside creative energy sparks a poetic escape
on the placid lake he casts his hopes
awaits the tug - he and his prey escape
she stands eyes closed, smiling face turned upward
feels the breeze in her hair thanks God for this sweet escape
he runs in the field of goldenrod tears stream
and he screams a desperate entreaty for escape
the sylvan spirits flown from the mountain trees
into the green glen whisper as angels - escape!
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 7:18 PM UTC
Nature, that wahed her hands in milk,
And had forgot to dry them,
Instead of earth took snow and silk,
At Love’s request to try them,
If she a mistress could compose
To please Love’s fancy out of those.
Her eyes he would should be of light,
A violet breath, and lips of jelly;
Her hair not black, nor overbright,
And of the softest down her belly;
As for her inside he’d have it
Only of wantonness and wit.
At Love’s entreaty such a one
Nature made, but with her beauty
She hath fram’d a heart of stone;
So as Love, by ill destiny,
Must die for her whom Nature gave him
Because her darling would not save him.
But Time, which Nature doth despise
And rudely gives her love the lie,
Makes hope a fool, and sorrow wise,
His hands do neither wash nor dry;
But being made of steel and rust,
Turns snow and silk and milk to dust.
The light, the belly, lips, and breath,
He dims, discolors, and destroys;
With those he feeds but fills not death,
Which sometimes were the food of joys.
Yea, Time doth dull each lively wit,
And dries all wantonness with it.
Oh, cruel Time, which takes in trust
Our youth, or joys, and all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave
When we have wandered all our ways
Shuts up the story of our days.
2.4k
I'll walk towards you in stilletos
Naked as the day I was born
and fold myself across you
anticipating as the day is long
I'll bend my knees upon carpet
as decadent as your punishment
and hold my breath until blue
waiting for your commencement
Waiting for your roaming hand
to just simply stop it's caressing
anticipating that sharp sting
upon flesh so eager for addressing
Up and down the fingers splayed
beginning the real torture
wiggling brings a sharp reprise
and a whispered
what have I taught you?
*There is no escape, essentially,
as you bend so enticingly
across my knee there is no escape
from me*
and crack across my buttocks
brings pleasure to both of us
and an unspoken entreaty,
hips raised in motion
please...
More for me
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 5:21 AM UTC
Berthed and tailed in Almighty,
Tea showed its mite as an entity
In daily life with its novelty
In reality tea is in plenty
Producers and users make it tasty
To sip in habitual punctuality
Its beauty lies in its utility
Take it hot, not to be hasty
For a break in work, it has its sanctity
In extreme hot or cold, it is naughty
Its quantity goes well with quality
It has limited warranty and guaranty
No pantry without tea
Kudos to tea’s entreaty
For its welcome treat in any treaty
Oh! Behold its entry and pageantry
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
1152
Tell as a Marksman—were forgotten
Tell—this Day endures
Ruddy as that coeval Apple
The Tradition bears—
Fresh as Mankind that humble story
Though a statelier Tale
Grown in the Repetition hoary
Scarcely would prevail—
Tell had a son—The ones that knew it
Need not linger here—
Those who did not to Human Nature
Will subscribe a Tear—
Tell would not bare his Head
In Presence
Of the Ducal Hat—
Threatened for that with Death—by Gessler—
Tyranny bethought
Make of his only Boy a Target
That surpasses Death—
Stolid to Love’s supreme entreaty
Not forsook of Faith—
Mercy of the Almighty begging—
Tell his Arrow sent—
God it is said replies in Person
When the cry is meant—
1.4k
"Tug, tug, tug" said the weights on my heart,
oh snug snug snug, with a smile and a hug,
did the chains gleefully entreaty,
On some days you'll feel the pain and self-hate,
But most of the time you will be empty,
Smug smug smug,
Me or these bands I breed?
Oh I wonder, I wonder, I wonder,
I think about it now and then, my sweet,
How it feels to love many,
Love so openly,
Looking in the hollow shells and finding the sick treat,
Nothing is fonder, fonder, fonder, on me
Than rejecting my own destiny.
I can go less and less as the years get colder, colder, colder,
The hot sun shines a little less,
And the snow makes me more than a little numb,
A white void, a sign post saying, darkness approaching,
I smile a little happy, depression now encompassing,
Au revoir, and the c'est la vie,
For je t'aime, and everything else,
Lies, lies, lies, and you can stick it up your hiney.
The truth is I am already dead,
Waiting for the sky to fall,
And we never know when we will stop breathing,
But we beg for it bleeding,
The breaking point, the line,
The end of all suffering,
The do or die, die, die,
All that and more my future does not lie,
No instead, my wretched soul,
Is already long gone,
Leaving now only a loud heart,
And the incessant sounds going,
"Tug, tug, tug."
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
Like **** you look; like you cry yourself to sleep.
I want yeah love, not yeah tears.
You laugh in public, but in private you're crying.
Stuck to old fabric when you should be in silk with me.
'Cause of me, you say,
You can't hear The Bees.
I want yeah love, not hyperbole.
I thought I had you lost,
But you know,
I see:
Holding up,
That face, yours,
Behind the big plastic frames,
Who you kiddin'?
Not me.
I see the blue.
Who you kiddin'?
Not me, babe, not me.
So we're both unhappy, you in yours,
And yours in you,
And me in mine.
Mine in me.
Me and ******* me.
Still, I am free to not be free,
You are love, that can't.
Now ain't that a pretty irony?
Why aren't we turning?
Like we're meant to - two matchsticks burning as they coil each other round -
The white,
Burnt charcoal for all to see.
Oh, yeah, I forgot, blind ambition for a dream - that through entreaty - can't be met.
From tinctured gray hair,
And looped repetition,
Patriarchy's silver,
Its forked deceit.
You ********* you.
Come here I'll flail you proper,
Open up your flesh with my acid tongue,
Lash you to a better place so make your skin red like the devil's own.
Ahhh, come on!
Summer's buried,
So to our hovels,
Our fake wombs,
And see what emerges when you can't long any longer our hardened decay.
When desire finally awakens and brings you skipping to our light.
I'll be there in the shade,
Waiting to dominate,
As best you had.
Come lover,
Before all meaning's lost,
All passion's fury spent
On false gods who live to lie.
Come dart with me in the shadows and the light.
Take me to the sun's core.
Strip me,
Make to me, again,
My deepest rings penetrate,
On my face scathing drip,
Savage in my ears,
Over my minced and dessicated body rage,
Your clear **** in my hair.
Animal; you, I miss.
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 7:28 PM UTC
Life’s comprehension
Limited by apprehension
So many contradictions
Dissent caused by frictions
Relentless falsification
Path leads to dereliction
Facade of colorful graffiti
No one heeds an entreaty
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
Talk about the way I loved you
Once upon a time!
I will always be kind to you,
But keep your valentine.
What good would come of an empty notion?
I won't sop in your love potion.
Keep your hearts of candy handy,
You might need a snack.
Wrap it up in cellophane,
Send your entreaty back.
We had our time, you had your shot.
Let's just be friends, or maybe not.
I can't think of reason one
That I should take the chance
On trusting that you'd ever change,
No, I am not entranced.
Learn the meaning of good-bye.
Walk away on down the line.
Don't look back, don't dwell upon it.
Give it no second thought.
To be clear, I'm not mad with you,
But feelings can't be bought.
At the close, there's this to find -
I don't want to be your valentine.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
“We want to feel free,” cried the congregation.
“And what is your prison?” came the response.
“Your prison is the walls you build.
The bricks, you lay with disbelief;
The constraints, you place upon yourself,
When you listen to those who tell you what you cannot do.
You want to feel free, you say?
First, you must free yourself from the shackles of impossibility.
If you can do this -
If you can begin to believe in your own potential again -
Then you can feel free.”
“We want to feel alive,” was the plea.
“And where is your coffin?” he replied.
“Your coffin is buried deep inside yourself.
The nails, you hammer with self-regard;
The dirt, you shovel with pride,
When you worry about what others will think.
You want to feel alive, you say?
First, you must awaken yourself to the insignificance of opinion.
If you can do this -
If you can act without worrying for your reputation -
Then you can feel alive.”
“We want to feel happy,” the masses begged.
“And where is your sorrow?” was the swift retort.
“Your sorrow is tethered to your past.
The pain, you cause with obsession;
The grief, you plant with scrutiny,
When you replay your unpleasant memories over and again.
You want to feel happy, you say?
First, you must cease to torment yourself with what has been done.
If you can do this -
If you can live in the present and appreciate the here-and-now -
Then you can feel happy.”
“We want to feel loved,” echoed their entreaty.
“And who is your loneliness?” the instant query.
“Your loneliness is none other than yourself.
The solitude, you cast with fear;
The exile, you order with your cowardice,
When you shy away from getting close for dread of being hurt.
You want to feel loved, you say?
First, you must make yourself vulnerable.
If you can do this -
If you can throw yourself on the mercy of another’s heart -
Then you can feel loved.”
Mar 6, 2011
Mar 6, 2011 at 8:01 PM UTC
Allow me for a moment to be selfish.
Though I ask much of you,
Still I ask this:
To whomever has the power,
Trade me for the world a trinket.
Trade me a life for every human soul.
Take every floating ship and sink it,
Break me into pieces or consume me whole.
Sweep up the universe like dust -
All the galaxies, black holes, nebulae.
Tear it down to a quivering mass of rust,
And if this is too low a price to pay,
I beg you tell me what monstrosity
Will earn the favor I request of you.
What black, loathsome atrocity
Need I commit? Whatever you ask, I’ll do
That she might breathe a minute longer
Than God saw fit to give her breath,
And now I make my final offer
To angels, demons, God, or Death:
Let her exist where I cannot touch her.
Let me know she lives.
If I shall never see her face
Or hear her laughter,
Let me be the one to suffer -
Take my offer -
Allow me for a moment to be selfish.
Though I ask much, still I ask this
To whomever has the power.
Aug 7, 2011
Aug 7, 2011 at 12:33 PM UTC
So when can I see you again
and when can I see you?
When can I ruffle your vague skirts
into a turmoil of waves
on the flustered reach of your thighs?
When can I lean my breath
against your ear to brush those drums
with my feathering voice?
When again can I kiss
the flagrant mischief of your mouth
or fever my fingers
in the dark arches of your form
I want to be alone with you
in your revelation
and falter at the flesh revealed
Can I undo your clothes and leave
Strewn puddles of patterns
like islands in the carpet seas?
Shall I take you naked
Into the broiling avalanche
Storming down your senses
to feel the brightening rapture
of your thunderous cries?
In a dance of few steps
shall I press my weight against you
and trace your pulsing blood
to find the riot in your nerves
beneath the careful veils
of your long attended beauty?
I seek subversive grace
and dream of your disheveled hair
When?
.
Or if you would prefer
I could take you to the movies
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
Drain me
I entreaty
Tears like diamonds
Falling
Drain me
I beg
Make thyn humanity
To be arctic
As frozen as glaciers
No more can I endure
The pain
Living to harsh
Drain me
So I may be
Take away the pain
Set me free
Give me the gift
Keep me from
The sorrow
By black rose
Date: 2014
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
I am very passionate about the object of my heart's affection
I try to get the message over that I am enamoured of your flame
But often I get slapped down for going my passion's direction
For having loved I have nevertheless been made ashamed
Thinking, ruminating on the ********** form of Beauty
At least that's how you have always appeared to me
You and your sermon are my spirit's entreaty
That beseeches, implores my mind mesmerisingly
The perfect opportunity of Love I often destroy
For ignorance of how to give perfect care
In my moods I fall and fall, like Troy
Attesting to my spirit's shame and the poverty there
But still I'd love to love and love again
With one who can teach me how to make amends
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 3:37 AM UTC
This music is the country you lost
when you were born,
the cafe which never closes, the *** which
comes so close your pores are
weeping with longing, and never touches you,
the nights you don't sleep, the hands in their ceaseless
moving like birds, the conversations interrupted
only by dancing, the dancers weeping with their bodies
painted like eyes,
here where black coffee and red wine are the only
waters, where crusty bread and creamy cheese
flecked with oregano and pooling tears of olive oil
are the only foods.
It's the music you strain to hear through all the needy
ordinary days,
the music which will only stop
when you abandon everything to follow it
--because this music lies to you, but it's a gorgeous lie,
full of such craving and entreaty, the chance for nothing
to be ordinary, ever
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 10:55 PM UTC
"Stay?"
A pleaded entreaty with tears
Soaking the edges of it's echo
Carries from your mouth to my ears
My mind races with leg entwined visions
The sloppy wet heat of our tongues
Swirling
Whispered apologies for years of neglect and bad choices
All could be mine
Yet...
That may be all this is
Chemical desire in a centrifuge
Until well blended with come **** me
DNA strands
You say you'll be there
Then when most needed
"Where's Waldo?", on the search
You know, even without disease
Our telomeres will eventually decide
When we are finished
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your fingerprints are all over my heart
Love, it's my mind
You've been reaching for all of this time
To only brush it with your fingertips
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC
Bitter and sweet
When winter evenings fall
Slowly darkening it veils the soul
You can feel it like a
Shadow growing in your mind.
Under the pitiless scourge
Over the weltering body's decay
The wild waves sweep in twilight.
Three roses, pale as moonlight
Lover, ****** Widow
Rise from under the earth.
What is lovely never dies
But passes into illusion.
The foolish are so blind
So drunk and so mad.
Fresh tears sliding down
The face of oblivion
Shining like crystals
Within my deepest depths
Torn into twice thrice
Plus one, scattered like ashes.
Does Thou Love Too?
Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 4:03 PM UTC
Small Circle
Luna awakes and I watch Her slow rising
carefully bathed and anointed and robed
the house is still
Incense hangs thick in the still air for sanctity and peace
My staff extends
protection invitation proclamation
Care full movement so slow that no breath flickers the candles
quietly the sounds of drums and flute a heartbeat a blood beat
Whispered calls Invitation Entreaty Prayer
Languid heat no blazing fire no joyful companions
This small Circle is mine alone
Mine and Hers
My first steps are done I await Her presence Her pleasure
My heart meets the drumbeat and in that moment the Circle is no longer empty
She has come
I am enfolded enriched reminded renewed
This has been my way for decades now though I am welcome in other Circles
This is my peace my safe haven my joy my treasure
Solita-2007
Apr 6, 2010
Apr 6, 2010 at 11:17 PM UTC
To feel your touch and to hear your voice
Seems like such a simple entreaty
And to go without may so seem easy
But the smallest dose makes me rejoice
In the simple pleasures of a long
Lost life, caught up in this tidal wave
Of emotion, yet sliding around
The true face of myself, all my pain,
My concealed inward explosion.
The striking pain of independence
Leaving behind these many fragments
From another time, now just remnants
Of the person I can’t be, so much
Less than what I want to see, in this
Now void world, empty of your touch.
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 6:08 PM UTC
As an Artist needs a model
A Poet seeks a heart
An object of adoration
to spark the more
noble aspirations
and the brighter
things that are
The entreaty of
a knowing smile
The slightly tearing eye
The overwhelming
joy of happiness
That sweeps from
your heart to mine
When adorations
meet the adored
It's then beyond
the poets words
For there it all
begins and ends
With the knowing
look of Love.
-R.
(11.13.17)
-LA
-4S
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 1:04 PM UTC
Awake in the pre-dawn gray
Sleep denied, an entreaty rejected
The demons demand my
Truth of the soul not neglected
So I stare
Nowhere and everywhere
Eyes closed mind and soul
Examine this life in the brilliance of half light
Wait for truth as if something would impart
As if demons would depart
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
I fear not battle, nor trial or journey,
I fear not mountains, nor plains or valleys,
I fear not enemy, nor entity or inner me,
I fear not stillness, nor silence or serenity.
I fear no man, no woman, no deity,
I fear no concept, nor idea in it's ambiguity,
I fear no system, religion or theory,
Fear no oppressor, no judge, no jury.
I fear no place, no time, no state of being,
I fear no vengeance, no riots, no villian's besieging,
I am no victim, no village pillaged,
I will not put forth entreaty;
Nor will I beseech thee pardon.
I need not, for my cup never empties,
And blessed be,
I am who I'm meant to be,
I am who I'm going to be,
I am where I'm supposed to be,
And nothing can dissuade me.
My course is set in stone,
Universe paved path of growing,
Story already written, unfolding,
I bear witness, only...
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 8:22 AM UTC
Greenleigh:
Rounding your cottage side,
There you were, bundles tied,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
What plan were for the blooms?
In the kitchen rose fumes,
You truly hoped for a tryst,
Wine love potion cauldron,
Boiled in my drink to stun,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed.
Haven:
My beauteous neighbor,
I submit to ardor,
All in obscure struggles midst,
I see your distant gaze,
But you I try to faze,
You were all to me exist,
“I will beckon at noon,
In this hot summer June,”
All in obscure struggles midst.
Greenleigh:
But as I spy, I think,
Then discreetly slink,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
I culled my own blossoms,
His allures my thraldoms,
I truly hoped for a tryst,
To you a bit of remorse,
Yet my heart waxed full force,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
I catch the way you stare,
I will avoid our affair,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Supplanted your fetters,
Entreaty, scrawled letters,
He were all to me exist,
I thought to meet halfway,
Might I be led astray,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Wyn:
And I received her word,
Intended a detour,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
Read the book of magic,
My love to you chronic,
I truly hoped for a tryst,
Donned my riding garments,
Leas, with my assortments,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
Her eyes, you I outshone,
Heedless to her writ tone,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Fancied your ivor teeth,
Smooth skin, your clothes ‘neath.
You were all to me exist,
In daydreams I drifted,
Blunders, I self chided,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Greenleigh:
Shocked when I saw him trot!
With grasp I became fraught,
All in obscure struggles midst,
He visits you, not me,
Deceit deserved, yet plea!
You were all to me exist,
Could not look in his eye,
Yet utter not goodbye,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Haven:
“Neighbor, wrong I done ye!”
I watch only blankly,
All in obscure struggles midst,
Her twisted mouth distressed,
No one thought we were blessed,
You were all to me exist,
I mumbled, brimming tears,
Should have asked direct, fears,
All in obscure struggles midst,
He was the fool of fate,
Confused yet did await,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
I vied for your full love,
As you to his yet shove,
I only hoped for a tryst,
Rapt in misconceptions,
Mocked us, even aspens,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
All:
Yet not so sly were we,
Does cognizance come bleak,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
We greeted happenchance,
What’s left but insistence?
Our furtive attempts yet missed,
Admit not errs, turn rightwards,
Fracturing our concords,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
Greenleigh:
Anxiously sipped bottles,
And did we start battles,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed,
Suffused eyes, flushed faces,
Affects spill, anguishes,
Our furtive attempts yet missed,
We die lone in shambles,
Bonds of love in scrambles,
Cerise honeysuckles kissed.
Feb 10, 2020
Feb 10, 2020 at 7:53 PM UTC
If I knew death as a close friend
I would walk into gunfire
I would dive the greatest ocean depth without trepidation
Stand fearless before the night
Offer my flesh as a living sacrifice
before my enemies
I would graciously step into eternity
without entreaty before 'kings'
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 5:54 PM UTC
three, one,one am
and out there in the
cold, cold dark
the sea's pounding entreaty
sounds like
god is heavy breathing,
on an old rotary phone.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC